ACT II., SCENE I.
Sound trumpets. Enter KING, BONVILLE, SALISBURY, LORDS.[296]
KING. Now I perceive this only was a dream.
Divine Matilda's angel did appear,
Deck'd like a vestal ready for heaven's quire,
And to this earthly trunk will not come near.
Well, let her go: I must, i' faith, I must,
And so I will. Kings' thoughts should be divine;
So are Matilda's, so henceforth shall mine.
OLD AUB. So doing, peace shall wait upon your crown,
And blessing upon blessing shall befall.
KING. It's true, my lord: I know full well there shall.
SAL. Your people will wax proud of such a king,
That of himself is king, lord of his thoughts;
Which by assertion of philosophers
Is held to be the greatest empery.
KING. And they said wisely, noble Aubery.
SAL. Then will Fitzwater, with his gallant troop[297],
Again keep triumph[298] in the English court;
Then will Matilda—
KING. Matilda! what of her?
SAL. Like a bright star adorn the lovely train
Of beauteous ladies which attend the queen,
Whose only beauty equalleth them all.
KING. Like an old fool, whose dim eyes, wanting sight,
Compar'st the sun to common candle light?
SAL. Pardon, my liege, I do confess her fair[299]
Exceeds all these as far as day doth night.
KING. Grossly alluded: night by moon, by stars
By wandering fires, exhaled meteors,
By artificial lights, by eyes of beasts,
And little glow-worms glimpsing in the dark,
Hath somewhere brightness, lightness; and sometime
Under each horizon in all parts clear:
But they at no time nowhere can be said
To be less dark than dungeon darkness is:
Pitch-colour'd, ebon-fac'd, blacker than black,
While her fair eyes give beauty to bright day.
SAL. To hear the queen thus prais'd works my content.
KING. The queen!
O, had I such a thought, I would repent. [To himself.
SAL. Further, my lord—
KING. What, shall we further wade?
I fear I shall be tired with this jade.
SAL. The commonwealth will flourish and increase.
KING. Good Salisbury,[300] of those things now hold your peace,
And take the pains to fetch in Isabel.
I have strange tidings sent me out of France,
Which she will take, I know, in as good part,
As I accept her praise. Fetch her, I say.
[Exit SALISBURY.
What, is the old fool gone? now go thy way.
What think'st thou of him, Hubert? tell me, man.
HUB. As of a good old gentleman, my lord,
That speaks but what he thinks, and thinks you think
As he doth; and, I warrant you,
Will not conceal those praises from the queen
Which, as he deems, you utter'd in her praise.
KING. I would have them believe it so, indeed;
But I protest 'tis no part of my creed. [Aside.
HUB. I'faith, your grace did Salisbury's years great wrong,
To curtail his good work, that seem'd so long:
He, peradventure, would have brought in more,
After his preface, to rich plenty's store.
Perchance he would have show'd Dame Vanity,
That in your court is suffered hourly;
And bade you punish ruffians with long hair,
New fashions, and such toys. A special care
Has that good man: he turns the statute-book;
About his hall and chambers if you look,
The moral virtues in fair effigy
Are lively painted: moral philosophy
Has not a sentence, be it great or small,
But it is painted on his honour's wall.
Enter QUEEN and SALISBURY.
KING. Peace, peace! he comes: now let's be silent all.
SAL. I tell you, I was proud of his good words.
QUEEN. God hold them, Salisbury, for it's often seen,
A reconciled foe small good affords.
SAL. O, forbear! trust me.
I gage my honour he doth hold you dear.
KING. How cheer you, Isabel? The earl your spouse
Hath sent defiance to the king your husband,
And, like a tried tall soldier, fled his holds
In Marchland, where he knows, despite of him
And all the men that he therein can raise,
King John could have sent dogs enou' to tear
Their ill-arm'd bodies piecemeal, ere his bands
Should with base blood have stain'd their noble hands.
And whither is this worshipful good earl
(This first love, old love, new love, if you will)
Gone, thinks your ladyship? forsooth, good man,
To Normandy; and there he stirs up coals,
And urgeth strong aid for confederates
Who, as he says, are treacherously disposed.
QUEEN. If he do so, the greater is his sin.
Poor man. I have no interest in him.
KING. But he hath had in you, as it should seem,
Else would he not make sonnets of your brow,
Your eye, your lip, your hand, your thigh.
A plague upon him! how came he so nigh?
Nay, now you have the curs'd quean's counterfeit:
Through rage you shake, because you cannot rave.
But answer me: why should the bedlam slave
Entitle a whole poem to your kiss,
Calling it cherry, ruby, this and this?
I tell you, I am jealous of your love,
Which makes me break into this passion.
Here's the kind noble Aubery de Vere
Knows what I speak is true.
My lord, my lord! I do appeal to you,
Are these things to be borne?
SAL. No, by the rood:
These love-rhymes are the tokens of small good.
HUB. Why, my good lord, was never poetry
Offer'd unto a lady's patronage?
SAL. Yes, but not taken[301].
HUB. Yes, and taken too.
Though moody[302] slaves, whose balladising rhymes
With words unpolish'd show their brutish thoughts,
Naming their maukins[303] in each lustful line,
Let no celestial beauty look awry,
When well-writ poems, couching her rich praise,
Are offer'd to her unstain'd, virtuous eye:
For poetry's high-sprighted sons will raise
True beauty to all wish'd eternity.
Therefore, my lord, your age is much to blame
To think a taken poem lady's shame.
SAL. You see the king, that's better read than you,
And far more wrong'd than I, takes it not well.
KING. Yes, but I do: I think not Isabel
The worse for any writing of Le Brun's.[304]
SAL. Will you ha' the truth, my lord, I think so too;
And though I be an old man, by my sword,
My arm shall justify my constant word.
QUEEN. After a long storm in a troublous sea,
The pilot is no gladder of a calm,
Than Isabel to see the vexed looks
Of her lov'd lord chang'd into sweet aspects.
KING. I will not tell thee what a world of foes
For thy love (dear love) rise against my life.
Matilda's love, few swords will fight for thee. [To himself.
I will not number up the many woes
That shall be multiplied: strife upon strife
Will follow; but to shun ensuing ills,
I'll take such pledges as shall please me ask
Of each proud baron dwelling in the realm.
Bruce, kinsman and the deputy to March,
Hath a high-minded lady to his wife,
An able son for arms, and a less boy,
That is the comfort of his father's life.
Madam, I know you love the lady well,
And of her wealth you may be bold to build[305],
By sending you four hundred white milch kine,
And ten like-colour'd bulls to serve that herd;
So fair, that every cow did Iö seem,
And every bull Europa's ravisher.
To friend myself with such a subject's truth,
Thus I command: you and Earl Salisbury
Shall, with what speed conveniently ye may,
Hie ye to Guildford: there the lady lies,
And her sons too, as I am told by spies.
All that she hath, I know, she calleth yours;
All that she hath I gladly would call mine,
If she abuse ye; if she use ye well,
For ever be what she retains her own.
Only go by, as queens in progress do,
And send me word how she receiveth you.
QUEEN. Well, I avouch, she will, before I go:
Far be it John should prove Lord Bruce's foe.
Come, noble Salisbury, I long to be at Guildford.
SAL. In such a business, madam, so do I.
[Exeunt.
KING. Go on, good stales[306]: now Guildford is mine own! [Aside.]
Hubert, I charge you take an hundred horse,
And follow unto Guildford castle-gates.
The queen pretend you come to tend upon,
Sent carefully from us: when you are in,
Boldly demand the lady for her sons,
For pledges of her husband's faith and hers:
Whom when ye have, upon the castle seize,
And keep it to our use, until we come.
Meanwhile let me alone with Hugh your son,
To work a wonder, if no prodigy;
But whatsoe'er, it shall attempted be.
HUB. Even that which to your majesty
May seem contentful, thereto I agree.
KING. Go then to Guildford, and a victor be, [Exit HUBERT.
Mowbray, our masque: are you and Chester ready?
MOW. We will before your grace, I warrant you.
KING. How think'st of it, Mowbray?
MOW. As on a masque: but for our torch-bearers,
Hell cannot make so mad a crew as I.
KING. Faith, who is chief?
MOW. Will Brand, my lord;
But then your grace must curb his cruelty:
The rein once got, he's apt for villainy.
KING. I know the villain is both rough and grim;
But as a tie-dog I will muzzle him.
I'll bring him up to fawn upon my friends.
And worry dead my foes. But to our masque.
I mean this night to revel at the feast,
Where fair Matilda graceth every guest;
And if my hidden courtesy she grace,
Old Baynard's Castle, good Fitzwater's place,
John will make rich with royal England's wealth:
But if she do not, not those scatter'd bands,
Dropping from Austria and the Holy Land,
That boast so much of glorious victories,
Shall stop the inundations of those woes,
That like a deluge I will bring on them.
I know the crew is there; banish all fears:
If wrong'd, they shall be ours: if welcome, theirs.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter FITZWATER and his son: OLD BRUCE and
YOUNG BRUCE, and call forth MATILDA[307].
FITZ. Why, how now, votary! still at your book?
Ever in mourning weeds? For shame, for shame!
With better entertainment cheer our friends.
Now, by the bless'd cross, you are much to blame
To cross our mirth thus: you are much to blame,
I say. Good lord! hath never woe enough
Of welladay? Indeed, indeed,
Some sorrow fits, but this is more than need.
MAT. Good father, pardon me:
You saw I sat the supper and the banquet;
You know I cannot dance; discourse I shun,
By reason that my wit, but small before,
Comes far behind the ripe wits of our age.
YOUNG B. You'll be too ripe for marriage,
If you delay by day and day thus long.
There is the noble Wigmore, Lord of the March
That lies on Wye, Lug[308], and the Severn streams:
His son is like the sun's sire's Ganymede,
And for your love hath sent a lord to plead.
His absence I did purpose to excuse,
Enter LEICESTER.
But Leicester is the man for him that sues.
FITZ. My cousin Bruce hath been your broker, Leicester;
At least hath broke the matter to my girl.
LEI. O, for a barber at the time of need,
Or one of these that dresses periwigs,
To deck my grey head with a youthful hair!
But I must to't. Matilda, thus it is!
Say, can you love me? I am Wigmore's son.
MAT. My cousin said he look'd like Ganymede;
But you, but you—
LEI. But I, but I, you say,
Am rather like old Chremes in a play[309];
But that's a nice objection: I am he,
But by attorneyship made deputy.
MAT. He's never like to speed well all his life,
That by attorney sues to win a wife:
But grant you are, whom you seem nothing like,
Young Wigmore, the heir to this noble lord—
He for his son hath sent us ne'er a word.
OLD B. If you grant love, when [that] his son doth woo,
Then in your jointure he'll send, say, and do.
YOUNG B. And for a doer, cousin, take my word:
Look for a good egg, he was a good bird;
Cock o' the game, i' faith, [O,] never fear.
MAT. Ay, but I fear the match will fall out ill,
Because he says his son is named Will.
FITZ. And why, good daughter? hath some palmister,
Some augur, or some dreaming calculator
(For such, I know, you often hearken to),
Been prating 'gainst the name? go to, go to;
Do not believe them. Leicester, fall to woo.
MAT. I must believe my father; and 'tis you
That, if I ought misdid, reprov'd me still,
And chiding said, "You're wedded to your will."
FITZ. God, for thy mercy! have ye catch'd me there?
Wigmore is William, woman. Leicester, speak:
Thou art the simplest wooer in the world.
LEI. You have put me out, and she hath took me down;
You with your talk, she with her ready tongue.
You told me I should find her mild and still,
And scarce a word came from her in an hour:
Then did I think I should have all the talk,
Unhinder'd by your willingness to help,
Unanswer'd, till I had no more to say;
And then—
YOUNG B. What, then?
She with a courtly court'sy saying Nay!
MAT. Your friend's attorney might have gone his way
With as great credit as did that orator
Which, handling an oration some three hours,
Ill for the matter, worse than bad for phrase,
Having said dixi, look'd, and found not one
To praise or dispraise his oration;
For, wearied with his talk, they all were gone.
FITZ. Now, by my troth, if any troth I have,
I am as merry at Matilda's mirth,
As I was glad to see her first day's birth.
For till this hour, so help me halidom,[310]
Since the too timely death of Huntington,
Not a blithe word had passage through her lips.
LEI. See, what a pleasing humour wooers bring.
YOUNG B. O, but ye leave too soon.
LEI. Yet she avers
I stand too long: shall I choose yours or hers?
MAT. Either forbear, I pray ye, for a while.
Enter RICHMOND.[311]
Welcome, Lord Richmond.
RICH. What, doth Matilda smile,
That still like silence solitary sat?
Then off with widow's weeds, and teach your feet
(That have forgot for want of exercise,
And by the means your sorrow had no mean)
To tread a measure for a gallant crew
Of courtly masquers landed at the stairs;
Before whom, unentreated, I am come,
And have prevented, I believe, their page,
Who with his torch is enter'd.
FITZ. Richmond, thanks,
If you have aught to say about the masquers.
Beseech the gentlemen to enter in,
For they are welcome guests to old Fitzwater.
[Exit Messenger.
Son, son, I pray you fetch the ladies in:
We have been talking here about a match,
And left our noble friends in discontent.
RICH. Nay, by my faith we had much merriment,
Yet thought it long you neither came nor sent.
[MATILDA faints, and sits down.
FITZ. How now, Matilda? pray thee, cheer thee, girl.
MAT. I thought it was a lightening before death,[312]
Too sudden to be certain. Good pleasure, stay.
Enter Ladies.
Wilt thou not, wanton? churl, then go thy way.
RICH. What, chang'd so soon? so soon fallen to your dumps?
Cheerly! the masque comes in.
[Enter the Masque.]
MAT. O[313] God, this veil
And look fit not this sport. I'll leave it.
LEI. Nay,
For your love William's sake, fair maiden, stay!
[Dance: Masquers take each a lady, JOHN
MATILDA, but [she] refusing, father.[314]
They sit down apart.
FITZ. This is no courtship, daughter, be not nice,
You both abuse him and disparage us.
His fellows had the ladies they did choose,
And, well, you know here's no more maids than Maud:[315]
Yourself are all our store. I pray you, rise,
Or, by my faith, I say you do us wrong.
MAT. I will do what you will. Lead, lead your dance.
KING. You know me by my speech.
MAT. Ay, my liege, ay. O, that temptation's tongue
Hath[316] nowhere to be plac'd but in your head!
KING. Well, say I have her tongue, had I not need,
When you have both her eyes, nay, all her shape,
Able to tempt even Job himself to rape?
MAT. Good my lord, leave, or I will leave the place.
[Dance again; and in the first course MATILDA flings from him: JOHN follows.
FITZ. Dance out your galliard: God's dear holy-bread!
Y'are too forgetful. Dance, or, by my troth,
You'll move my patience more than I will speak.
[She unwilling, JOHN roughly pulls her.
Nay, soft, unmanner'd sir: you are too rough:
Her joints are weak, your arms are strong and tough.
If ye come here for sport, you welcome be;
If not, better your room than such bad company.
[JOHN threatens him by signs.
Dost threaten me? then will I see thy face.
KING. And so thou shalt. Look on me, rebel lord!
Thou that wert late a factious ringleader,
And in the open field gav'st me fierce fight:
Art thou again gathering another head,
That with such rudeness thou dost entertain
The gentle coming of thy sovereign?
FITZ. My dread lord, hear me, and forgive this fault,
What I have erst done, long since you forgave:
If I did lead the barons in the field,
The barons chose me, when they could not choose
But make some leader, you were so misled.
When better thoughts enter'd your royal breast,
We then obey'd you as our sovereign head.
KING. You did even what you list, and so do still:
I am the king, but you must have your will.
The plain truth is, we are not come in sport,
Though for our coming this was our best cloak;
For if we never come, till you do send,
We must not be your guest, while banquets last.
Contentious brawls you hourly send to us;
But we may send and send, and you return—
This lord is sick, that pained with the gout,
He rid from home. You think I find not out
Your close confederacies: yes, I do, no doubt.
LEI. If there be here a close confederate,
God's vengeance light upon him with my hate!
KING. No, you are open, Leicester; that I know.
CHES. I, by the Lord, my lord, your open foe.
LEI. By thy lord's Lord and mine, proud Ralph of Chester,
Thou durst not say so, wert thou from the king.
MOW. Yes, but he dares and shall.
RICH. Mowbray, if you stand by,
He dares perchance; else will the dastard fly.
CHES. My own sword shall maintain my tongue's true speech;
For it is not frequented to such lies,
As wrangling Leicester and proud Richmond use:
It cannot set out, like a thundering drum
Or roaring cannon, stuff'd with nought but brags,
The multitudes of seas dyed red with blood,[317]
And famous cities into cinders turn'd
By their two armed arms.
KING. Ay, Chester;
And then they show us rags, torn off belike
From poor decayed ladies' petticoats;
For neither bill, nor feather'd shot, nor pike
Make half nor any of those rents they have.
These, patch'd together, fasten'd unto staves,
They will not stick to swear have been advanc'd
Against the Sophy, Soldan, and the Turk.
LEI. Do not maintain proud Chester, my life's liege:
Your words I must put up; his if I bear—
KING.[318] Yes, you shall bear them, bear, and yet not bite:
We have you muzzled now. Remember once
You brav'd us with your bombard boasting words.
Come (briefly), Leicester, Richmond, both Fitzwaters, Bruce,
Deliver up your swords immediately;
And either yield your bodies to our hands,
Or give such pledges as we shall accept
Unto our steward Winchester with speed.
LEI. I will not leave my arms, nor break my word,
Except I be provok'd: your liege-man I am sworn;
That oath is pledge enough. If you mislike—
KING. Thou hear'st me say I do.
LEI. And I reply:
That pledge refus'd, I have no more for you.
RICH. And Richmond says as noble Leicester saith.
Already have we plighted fame and faith
Which, being scorn'd, returns to us again,
And by the king's own mouth we are discharged.
KING. Fitzwater, what say you?
FITZ. What pledge desires my liege?
KING. I ask your stubborn daughter.
YOUNG B. That were a gage
To be engaged.
FITZ. Peace, thou headstrong boy!
Pardon me, sovereign; all my power is yours;
My goods you may command, my life you may:
My children too, I know, with both their lives
Will readily adventure death's worst wrongs,
To do such service as true subjects should;
But honourable fame; true chastity—
KING. Make no exceptions: yield her up to me,
Or look for ever for my enmity.
FITZ. Nay, then, Fitzwater tells your majesty,
You do him wrong; and well will let you wit,
He will defend his honour to the death.
KING. And, Bruce, you are no otherwise disposed:
You will not give your sons to me for pledge.
BRUCE. I have but one, being my lesser boy,
Who is at Guildford: for my other son—
KING. He braves me with the rest.
Well, it is night, and there's no sun to swear by,
But God's[319] son, and by him I here protest
A miserable storm this night to raise
That shall not cease, while England giveth rest
To such vile traitors. Bruce, I'll begin with you;
I will, i' faith, as true as God is true.
[Exit KING, cum suis.
LEI. Then shall a storm be rais'd against a storm,
And tempest be with tempest beaten back.
FITZ. But this firm island, like the sea, will toss.
And many goodly buildings go to wrack;
Many a widow weep her dying son,
And many a mother to her weeping babes
Cry out uncomfortably, "Children, peace,
Your crying unto me is all in vain,
Dead is my husband, your poor father slain!"
YOUNG B. We cannot help it, uncle.
RICH. No, you see
Entreats and humble suits have now no power,
But lust and wrath the kingdom do devour.
BRUCE. Me he did menace first, and much I fear
He will to Guildford, and besiege my wife.
FITZ. O, hie to save her! Richmond, ride with him.
RICH. Let us away, Bruce, lest we come too late,
And with us take some score of men well-arm'd.
[Exeunt RICHMOND and BRUCE.
FITZ. Do: Leicester and myself will keep the city,
Till we are furnish'd with an able army.
Your nephew Bruce shall take an hundred men,[320]
And post to Hertford Castle with your sister.
Sith wrong doth[321] wake us, we will keep such watch,
As for his life he shall not hurt us bring.
[Exeunt omnes.